Shattered
by IndigoCaress
Summary: ated for a reason, Warnings: Abusive Kevin, MM, nonconsensual sex. Simon struggles with knowledge and reality the next mornig...Read at your own risk. No flames, but please RR.
1. Default Chapter

Shattered  
  
A 7th Heaven fan fiction by CeruleanOctober   
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing. Don't sue, just read.  
  
Warnings: Abusive Kevin and non-consensual m/m sex. Do not read if you are offended by abusive Kevin, M/M, or non-consensual sex. You have been warned, so don't waste my time or yours with flames.  
  
This fic is rated R for a reason!  
  
Shattered  
  
Chapter 1/?  
  
"Why don't you come up the apartment with me and Ben tonight?" Kevin suggests. I don't know what to say. I look at Mom, at Dad. Dad looks at Mom. Mom looks at me, at Kevin. "Please?" Kevin attempts a sad puppy-dog face. Mom nods.   
  
I still can't believe Lucy is getting married tomorrow. Lucy. Married. To a cop. A cop she met in New York, a cop who wanted to arrest her for making terrorist threats in an airport.   
  
I guess sometimes it's true that truth is stranger than fiction, because no one could ever make something like that up. And it could only happen to Lucy.   
  
Kevin seems like an okay guy. I mean, I think she really loves him, and he says he loves her. But I can't help thinking she could do better. Something about him…I just don't know what it is…something just never seemed right with him. I just can't put my finger on what it is.  
  
"Simon? You want a beer?" Ben asks. I feel my eyes grow a little wide at the suggestion. I've only been drunk once, and it really wasn't my fault. But I remember how good it felt, how carefree I felt, like I was flying and nothing could ruin the mood I was in, until I started feeling sick, and then I puked and it wasn't so fun after that. My head hurt, my whole body ached. "Here. Catch." Ben throws a can to me, and I catch it on instinct.  
  
"Ben…" Kevin says, but whatever else he might have said is cut short by Ben tossing him a beer.  
  
I have that uncomfortable out-of-place feeling, and I just want to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed tonight with Happy right next to me. I don't want to be here, drinking beer, with Kevin and Ben, but I don't know how to get out of it, so I open the can and take a sip.   
  
I hate the taste of beer. It's too bitter. It tastes like piss. Not that I know what piss tastes like, but that's what beer makes me think of. I wonder if they'd say anything if I took the can to the bathroom? I could dump it down the sink…  
  
"So how's school?" Ben asks and takes a long, deep drink. He's sitting beside Kevin and I can't help but feel he's up to something.   
  
"I don't know if she's coming," I say when I meant to say something about how great school is, and how I can't wait to be a senior next year.  
  
"What?" Kevin and Ben say in unison as if they had practiced it.  
  
"Mary. I don't know if she's coming to the wedding tomorrow." Ben just rolls his eyes like he could care less, and I feel like a complete idiot. Maybe he really doesn't care. Maybe he's finally over her.  
  
"Okay. This is boring. Who's up for a game of Truth Or Dare?" Ben asks suddenly, and Kevin makes some kind of affirmative noise. I don't want to play. But I can't tell them that. I feel small enough already. "Truth or dare, Kev?"  
  
"Truth."  
  
"When was the last time you got drunk?"  
  
Kevin rolls his eyes. "That's a wimpy one. It was six months ago. And you were there. Your turn. Truth or dare?"  
  
"Dare."  
  
"I dare you to drink the rest of your beer in one swallow."  
  
Ben sighs, acts as if that would be neat to impossible. A trickle of it runs down his chin. But he doesn't miss a beat. He drains the can, then slams it down on the table. Empty.  
  
"Simon. Truth or dare."  
  
I feel really weird when Ben says my name. Tingly. Light headed even. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be doing this. I want to go home.   
  
"Simon?"  
  
I take a deep breath, take a sip of my beer. "Truth." At least they can't tell me to chug my beer. I think I'd puke if they did.  
  
"Have you ever done more than kiss a girl?"  
  
Have I? I've touched Cecilia's breasts. I guess that counts, even though she had her shirt on. "Yes."  
  
Ben puts his hand up for a high five. I don't want to slap his hand, but I do it anyway. Kevin does too. And for some reason, that makes me feel even smaller, and a little bit dirty.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The game goes on for a while. I nurse the one beer in the time Kevin and Ben drink three or four each. I don't know how many. I've lost count. And really I don't care anyway. They're both adults, they can drink if they want to.  
  
"Come on, Simon. Drink up," Ben says.  
  
"Go easy on him, Ben. He's just a kid."  
  
Kevin's words, saying I'm just a kid, spark a raging heat in me. Anger. Outrage. I want to yell at him, scream at him that I'm not just a kid. I'm seventeen. I'll be an adult soon. I'm not a kid anymore.   
  
But as usual I sit there and say nothing. I don't want to act like a child, like the kid Kevin thinks I am, and arguing with him would be childish.  
  
"I'm just having a little fun," Ben says. I watch him get up, patting his brother's leg, using Kevin for support until he's steady on his feet. He goes to the kitchen, and Kevin goes into the bathroom.  
  
I have to do something to prove to these two that I'm not a kid. I have to. But what? Before I realize what I'm doing, I drain my beer and clamber to the kitchen, toward Ben. "You guys got anything stronger than beer in here?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I want something else."  
  
Ben opens a cabinet. "Whiskey. Vodka. Rum. Kevin's got it all."  
  
"Can you make me a White Russian?"  
  
Ben raises an eyebrow, but goes about fixing the drink. I think he puts a little too much vodka in it, but I take it without comment and take as big a swallow as I can. It burns all the way down, so strong it singes the hairs in my nose, but I just smile and tell Ben it's great.  
  
"What's goin' on?" Kevin lumbers across the room. He looks like he can barely stand up.   
  
"Just fixing Simon a White Russian." Ben hands a glass to Kevin.   
  
Kevin takes a long drink. "Damn, little brother. That is good."  
  
"So, are we still playing?" I ask. I put my half-empty glass on the counter, Ben refills it without comment.  
  
"Sure. But you gotta start taking dares, Camden."  
  
"The dare me." I take another drink. The room seems to slant just a little. I feel dizzy. But only for a second. I'm holding on to the counter to keep my balance.  
  
"I dare you…" Ben starts, and puts his arm over my shoulder to guide me back to the chair I was sitting in before.  
  
Kevin cuts him off. "No This one's mine. I dare you…I dare you to suck my cock."  
  
I'm not drunk enough to let that one go by. I stare at him. I know he doesn't mean it. He can't possibly mean it. Just the thought of it, the suggestion, makes me feel sick. The bile rises in my throat, and I swallow it, follow it with a long sip of my drink.  
  
"I'm waiting." Kevin unbuttons his jeans, pulls the zipper down.  
  
"Kev…" Ben starts, stops. The blood is rushing through my veins, thundering in my ear. My heart feels like it's about to thump itself right out of my chest.  
  
"I dared you, Camden. You have to do it. He has to do it, Ben. I dared him."  
  
Ben just stands there looking at Kevin.   
  
I glance at the hole in the floor, the steps that lead to the garage below. I feel like a deer standing in the headlights of an oncoming car. I know I need to move, but my feet are stuck in quicksand. I can't move.  
  
Kevin steps coming toward me. There is a darkness in his eyes that stabs me like a knife in my soul. I try to run., but my feel won't move. I stumble, my knees hit the floor with a thud and a sharp pain jolting through my body.   
  
I try to scream, but I hand clamps down against my mouth. "Get my handcuffs!" Kevin orders. I grunt and fight and try to bite him, but it's no use. Kevin drags me across the room to his bed and shoves me face down on the mattress and holds me there until Ben produces the handcuffs.   
  
He binds my hands behind my back. I can hear them talking, I know they are talking, but the words don't make sense. It's just a jumble of sounds. The blood rushing in my ears drowns everything out. The room is spinning even though I'm face down with Kevin's hand pushing at the back of my head and I can't see anything at all.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
End chapter 1. Please read and review, but don't bother with flames. 


	2. The Morning After

Shattered (2/?)  
  
A 7th Heaven Fan Fiction by CeruleanOctober  
  
See chapter 1 for disclaimers and warnings. I need to credit ff.net author Cypher as well, for this wonderfully challenging idea.  
  
Shattered  
  
Chapter 2/?  
  
He feels himself floating, a sensation not unlike swimming. Drifting. He feels a certain peacefulness, almost like a blanket thrown over him. He feels warm under the blanket. Safe.  
  
But soon he feels the blanket slipping, leaving him exposed. He thinks of a piece of driftwood carried on a current, battered and bruised and at the mercy of some inescapable force.   
  
His eyes open against his will, and full consciousness brings with it a surging panic. It collects in his chest. Heavy. Weighted. He can't move. His whole body hurts. Held down. Trapped.   
  
Stickiness under his cheek. Puke. His puke. He can feel it in his hair, taste it in his mouth. A similar stickiness between his legs. Bile rises again, an undeniable force that erupts despite his protests.  
  
He struggles for a moment, until full awareness hits him. His wrists are bound at his back. Unforgiving metal. Handcuffs. He remembers the click as they were locked in place. Incomprehensible fear. Fear like nothing he had ever known before. Fear of life, fear of death. Knowledge of what would come next. Indescribable pain. Tearing apart, ripping in two. Heat, like fire, building in him, burning, destroying, until there was nothing but blackness.  
  
In his mind, he sings. Childhood songs. Songs like "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" and "Mary Had A Little Lamb." Songs that make him think of gentle streams and lambs going to school. Children skipping, going to market to buy fat pigs. Home again, home again, jiggity jig.  
  
Home. Home, a place he had always felt safe. Wrapped in a protective cocoon. Never again. Shattered.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
He wakes to the uncomfortable feeling of being shaken. His eyes open. Slowly. His vision is blurred, like his mind. Consciousness ripples like waves on a shore, eluding him.   
  
The first awareness is that his body hurts. Aches. Every inch of him. He feels weak. Unstable. Beaten.  
  
He hears a voice. Words. Meaningless jumble of sounds. Hands on his shoulder. More shaking. Eyes close. His stomach gurgles like a ship at sea. Sea sick. He can't help it.  
  
"Jesus, Camden!" Ben yelps.   
  
He opens his mouth, but finds he has no voice to say anything.   
  
He watches silently a Ben walks to a door he knows to be the bathroom. He stays in there, running water, no doubt cleaning the vomit from his clothes, before walking out. Naked.   
  
The boy closes his eyes to the site. Too late. His mind burns with the memory. Face down on the bed. Weight bearing down behind him. Claiming him. Ripping into him. Filling him. Burying him alive.  
  
He feels the need to puke once more, but swallows it down.   
  
"Get up. You need a shower." Ben doesn't bother to get dressed, but approaches the bed where the boy lays unmoving. Still in the pools of his own puke. Ben pulls him up by the arm, tries to let go, but holds on because the boy sways, unable to find his balance or support his own weight.  
  
Hands grip his shoulders. Eyes stare into his. Blank eyes. Dull eyes. "Listen to me, Simon. You have got to snap out of this. You're going to take a shower, and you're going to have to go to the house and get dressed. Lucy's getting married today. You can't ruin the day for her. It's her wedding day. Do you understand me?"  
  
The boy can do nothing but nod. He can not, he will not, think of his sister. Lucy. Sweet, innocent Lucy. She has no idea who, or what, she is marrying. Hands holding him down, pushing him face-down into the mattress. Weight on his back, pushing into him, ripping, tearing, filling, claiming. Surging heat. Blinding, burying, suffocating.  
  
Ben dragging him. Pulling him to the bathroom. Putting him in the tub. Under the water. Hot. Too hot, Burning. Scalding. Cleansing. Ben's hands caressing. Cleaning. Washing away the sin.  
  
Can't reach what's on the inside. The real damage. The real nakedness.   
  
Ben shutting off the flow. Cold. Shivering. Ben wrapping him in a towel. Patting him dry. Careful not to touch certain places. Bruises. Tenderness. Discomfort.   
  
"You can wear a pair of my sweats and a T-shirt." Already there, on the counter. Ben turning him, sitting him down, dressing him like a helpless child. "Can you stand up?"  
  
He braces himself on the counter, heaves himself up. Feels himself sway. Rights himself. Concentrates on the issue of balance.  
  
"Good. Now walk."  
  
One foot in front of the other. He knows how to do it. He's done it all his life Started walking at 10 months. Always ahead of his age. Advanced.   
  
"Good. Now, what are you going to tell your parents?"  
  
Frozen. Fear pumping hot in his veins. Parents. Mom. Dad. Dizzy. Going to pass out. Blackness. On the floor. Looking up. Ben.   
  
"Damn it, Simon. Cut this out. Get up. Stand up and be a man."  
  
Eyes close. A slap across the face. Hard enough to sting. Eyes open.  
  
Ben glaring at him. "You are going to get up and you are going to go home and get dressed for your sister's wedding."  
  
He shakes his head, feels his brain jarred, stops. Stares at Ben.  
  
"Oh yes you are. You are not going to ruin this for Kevin. Now get up." Ben pulling him to his feet. Forcing him to stand. "Let's try this again. You are going to tell your parents we were up all night. You didn't get any sleep and you're tired. Say it. Tell me what you're going to tell them."  
  
Hands on his shoulders. Gripping, Unrelenting. Holding him there. Demanding an answer.  
  
"Up night. Not sleep."  
  
"What the hell is that? Speak English."  
  
"Sleep not tired."  
  
"Damn it, Camden. You're not making any sense. Listen to me. Say I was up all night. I. Was. Up. All. Night."  
  
The words spiral around his mind. He opens his mouth Nothing. No sound. Just blackness claiming him again. Ben shaking him. Bringing him back. Staring at him. Dull eyes. Dead eyes. Eyes full of…blackness.  
  
"Say it."  
  
"I up night all tired." He knows that isn't right. Doesn't make sense. Words. Just words. "I was up. All night. Tired."  
  
"That's better. Coffee. You need coffee. Coffee will help you sober up. I hope." Ben leading him to the little table in the corner, sitting him down. Ben pouring a steaming mug of coffee from the pot on the counter.  
  
Burns all the way down. Hurts. Scalds. Like the shower. Washing the sin from his throat.   
  
"We were up all night. I didn't get any sleep. I'm tired."  
  
Ben patting him on the shoulder. "You're going to be just fine, Camden."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
End chapter 2. This was a very difficult chapter to write. It is Simon's POV, Simon wrote it, but would not, could not, write it in first person. But the choppy sentences are his mind, disjointed, unstable. Please read and review, it means so much…Thanks! 


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